Blood on the Walls
by Typholius
Summary: A tyrannical cat lord fights to take back his thrown. Not really in "Warriors" format. I wrote this story for school work a while ago. If you read my story, Jayfeather's Conclusion, you may recognize some of the characters.


**This story is not in Warriors format, but it involves characters from Jayfeather's Conclusion so I guess that makes it okay. The protagonist of this story is completely my own creation, but I can't say I wasn't influenced by the Warrior series and Firewing. For the record, I don't think Tigerstar or Scourge were half as evil as Brokenstar.** (i find scourge adorable)

**Typholius, though almost as good a writer as Erin Hunter, still does not own Warriors. Kenneth Oppel owns the Wing trilogy.**

* * *

Police sirens wailed through the night as fire trucks and ambulances circled the burning wreck of a building. The massive crumbling structure was an abandoned factory of some sort that seemed to have spontaneously caught fire. No other buildings were nearby that could have been damaged by the flames because the old premises was on the outskirts of the city.

Dozens of men hopped out of their trucks in harsh yellow suits, dragging hose lines behind them or wielding heavy axes. Others gathered and watched in fear as the inferno belch black clouds into the sky, obscuring the stars. The fires harshly resisted the hoses, and heat pulsated from the raging furnace in waves.

A police car with flashing lights pulled up beside the fire truck and a stout man in uniform joined the firemen. He had a walkie-talkie in one hand and urgently spoke into it, calling for back-up.

A reporter's car arrived and a woman in business clothes got out with a man holding a video camera. She quickly put herself between the fire and the view of the camera. Talking, smiling broadly, and occasionally looking over her shoulder at the scene; she was making the early morning news.

The fire ripped through the steel supports of the building and the lot collapsed in a suffocating tangle of steel and brick. The flames finally gave way to the torrents of water falling upon them, and with a hiss like a giant snake, the fires died until all that was left was a glowing mass of scorched and broken rubble.

With the majority of the excitement over, some people drove off while the emergency crew got a head count. According to them, nobody had been in the building when it had gone down.

The sun's glow was just peeking over the horizon when the last of the observers departed in their cars. The large pile of charred rubble lay as it had fallen. Nothing moved. No one was watching.

But there had been something in the building when it had collapsed. Through the wreckage there was a struggle as something forced its way to the surface. A twisted steel column budged, shifted, and a dark shadow oozed out from beneath. It was a cat. Medium sized, solid ginger, and furious.

* * *

He gasped in pain and shock as he cleared his eyes and ears of foul soot. He opened his one yellow eye to take in his surroundings, but that was a mistake. Instantly it teared up from the rank smoke and dust. He coughed out broken glass and spat blood onto the remains of what had once been his home. He smelled burning fur and his skin felt stiff and cracked. This was not a common sensation for him. Never before had he experienced such agony or disbelief. He pulled the rest of his tail out from under a pile of bricks and winced as a couple of bones in the tip snapped. Someone had dared to do this to him and they would suffer most dearly for it.

He hissed, clearing glass dust from his lungs, and wheezed for help. No one answered. It was completely unreal to him. Days ago he had been the most feared and powerful feline in the world with trade routes across the seas, and thousands of loyal servants. Now he was a crippled stray with a shattered home. Was this the end? No! He would return and take back what was his. His name was Gash, and he would never be forsaken.

* * *

Gash limped through the empty paved streets. The tall buildings and houses seemed unreasonably large to him. He wished he could swipe them down to rubble as he once been able to, but now, he needed to find support.

It had been a year since he had escaped the overthrow of his empire. The news had it that the rest of his court had been killed or chased out, but he wouldn't believe it. He had stayed out of sight since then, feeding only at night, and listening. Apparently his replacement was a cat by the name of Novel. The upstart had been the head of the rebellion that had lead to Gash's misery in the first place. A gas explosion was what the rebels had used to tear down his fortress from what he had overheard.

He stopped at an oily puddle that had formed in a dip in the ground. He looked down into it and blinked his eye until it adjusted to the unnatural human lights behind him. His ragged orange face looked up at him. Both of his ears where damaged beyond repair and a mess of scars were all that remained of his right eye. To him, it was a face that represented the strength of endurance. As long as there was pain to endure and hopes to be crushed, he would not die. He narrowed his yellow eye in contemplation. There was a chance to redeem himself and prove to every cat that he was the master of his own destiny.

First, though, he needed the two cats that had always been most loyal to him. Both of them had gone underground, but he knew where at least one of them was. He had always planned ahead for emergencies and there was one hide-out he knew he should check first.

Getting there, however, would be difficult. Without his servants and chariot, or the air of fear he used to invoke, he was vulnerable. He had a four day's walk before he reached the sea. He loathed his state of condition. As he padded on, he observed the town around him. It was dull and shabby but offered enough cover if he needed to hide quickly.

One of his long curved claws caught in a crack in the old road and he yelped as it tore from his paw. "Servant, come-," he started instinctively but he shut his mouth with a snap. He swung his head around to make sure no one had seen, ready to rip the throat out of any creature that mocked him, but he was alone. He felt stupid and ridiculous. He couldn't wait to be on top again.

Gash stood on the edge of a rocky cliff seventy feet above the water. Around him, small trees poked from the ground and yellow grass waved in the wispy breeze. A lazy white fog drifted towards him and below, the waves crashed against the salty rocks. The sun was low in the sky making the shadows creep towards him.

He had reached the sea. Itching with eagerness and probably a few fleas, he scanned the cracks and crevices below him on the cliff face. His pelt was laced with cuts from trampling through thorn bushes, and one of his hind paws still bled from stepping on some human rubbish, but he could climb down.

He had no fear of heights and his first steps were easy as he inched his way down the sheer drop. His long claws found easy purchase on the straggly brush. An aching pain crept up his injured hind leg whenever he put weight on it making him growl but he pressed on. He was making slow yet steady progress.

Suddenly, his hind leg gave way completely. He gasped in shock as his claws slid free from the rocks and he fell. Trying not to imagine the uneven rocks sixty feet below him, he relaxed and his body naturally righted itself in the air and he braced for landing. It came with a heavy jolt that sent him sprawling sideways onto his bad leg. His shoulder hit the rocks hard, but nothing was broken. He staggered to his paws and shook his head to clear it. The sun was dipping beneath the sea making a path of blood towards him. He wanted to find his old ally before dark.

He hustled from cave to cave searching for a landmark that marked his destination. All the rocks looked the same to him and it was getting harder to see with the light going out.

He took a deep breath and searched for a familiar smell and a faint scent caught his attention. It reminded him of his old royal court. He was close. He followed it into a large pitch black cave and gave up his sight to rely completely on his other senses. The air was thick with the smell and it was all around him as he crept carefully through twisting tunnels.

Without warning, something large and heavy crashed into him from behind and knocked him to the ground, pinning him. "State your name and purpose here!" a voice growled.

Gash rolled quickly onto his back and faced his attacker. He recognized the harsh voice and claws holding him as well as he knew his own name. He tried to purr, but it was unnatural for him and all he could manage was a rugged hiss.

"Lord Gash?" The cat's meow was deep like rumbling stones. The long claws digging into Gash's sides quickly released him and scrambled backwards. "My deepest apologies my liege."

Gash rose to his paws and shook the dust from his fur. He tried to speak but his voice sounded foreign from lack of use, and he coughed. "I see you survived and remembered where to go in case something like this happened, Chain."

"Of course, O- Great and Bloody One."

Gash rolled his eye. He had almost forgotten the long list of titles he had accumulated. He felt his neck fur rise as he remembered the amount of blood he had spilled that had earned him that particular one. There wasn't time for chat, his empire needed reclaiming. "Where is Padlock?"

They were moving again. Chain had insisted that they stay in his cave for one day and night to tidy Gash up. The massive gray and white tom had fed him, groomed him, and fixed up his leg injury, to some extent, with a few helpful herbs he had gathered. Gash was already feeling like more of the king he used to be as he felt the weariness from his struggles from the fire and his tiresome journey. All he had heard for the last few hours was "allow me, my lord," and "would you like me to go hunting again, my lord?" He was ready to travel.

"Watch your step, my king, the rocks can be-"

Gash raised his tail for silence. "I appreciate the courtesy," he growled, "but I wasn't born yesterday."

They traveled along the coastline, going south. Gash felt more alive than he had in months as he padded beside his towering bruiser. On one side, he watched small towns and fields go past. On the other side, he listened to the ocean beat relentlessly against the shoreline and he saw tiny dark protrusions far out in the sea which he figured where some sort of human structures. He could almost taste his revenge already.

It was day four of traveling south and the two cats had found themselves in a small human town. The houses where made of red stone and the road was full of gravel. Chain and Gash had slept the night in a broken down car on the side of the road.

"You awake, my king?" grumbled the big cat.

The smaller cat yawned, displaying a series of small dagger-like teeth. "Of course I am. Let's move."

Gash hopped through the smashed window of the rusty human vehicle and his bulky companion, with a bit of squeezing, slid through as well. They were off again.

"Where exactly is your brother again?" Gash asked. He already knew the answer, Chain had told him many times already, but there was nothing else to really talk about and he felt restless from going so many days without lounging about in his palace.

The big gray cat kept his eyes on the ground as they walked. His bright green eyes were dull from travel. He also was stranger to being a homeless beggar. "Last I heard, Padlock was wandering about near that old human fortress to the east. Knowing him, he probably hasn't properly gone into hiding. "

Gash nodded. The twin of his massive companion was strong, but dim. Padlock was pathetic when it came to words, but watching him kill was sensational. They would have to leave the sea eventually and move inland to where he suspected Chain's brother was hiding. He let out a long sigh. "I hate walking," he growled.

They traversed the streets, taking the quickest way out of the town, plowed through some human's garden, and into a dark alleyway. Two night's journey was all that was left until he would have both his bruisers. With each step, the territory felt more and more like it belonged to him.

Suddenly, the sound of many paws on stone caught his attention. Before he could move, half a dozen scrawny ungroomed cats were on him at once.

"It's the Tyrant, Gash!" screeched a voice. "Kill him and his servant, Padlock, before they harm your kittens and loved ones!"

Gash rolled with the tide of felines and jammed his claws deep into a cat clinging to his forepaw. He hit the jugular and blood spurted out of the wound. He kicked another attacker in the face and leapt straight into the air as he felt its grip loosen on his tail.

He hadn't felt this alive in months, and he rejoiced as his exhaustion melted away. Blood filled his vision, and he let his dark instincts take over. He was barely aware of Chain rampaging through a wave of his own enemies as he felt his claws gouge out eyes and smash heads together. His claws were a blur as they flashed from throat to throat. This was what he was born to do.

It was over way too fast. The attacking cats, or what was left of them, limped away in shock. The dead lay in heaps across the pavement. Bits of fur and gore were plastered along the walls and blood oozed down the storm drains until it plopped into the gutters.

Gash's vision quickly returned to normal and he blinked his eye. His fur was sticky with blood, but he knew most of it wasn't his own. He had won the battle, but soon the entire cat world would hear that he was still alive and moving.

"They have fled, my king," meowed Chain, padding over to the puddle of dark warm liquid in which Gash stood. His long gray fur was too long for most claws to penetrate and his only wounds seemed to be a couple of cuts on his cheek.

"Not all of them," Gash growled listening to a rapidly beating heart nearby. "There is still one hiding behind that trash can over there. Go rip its tail off."

There was a squeak of terror and Chain cackled sinisterly as a small black cat leaped from behind its hiding place and bolted down the alley.

"We have been discovered. It was bound to happen eventually. Novel will most certainly send his best assassins after us now."

Chain licked a paw to clean the blood off. "You notice that some cat called me 'Padlock', in the beginning?"

The smaller cat nodded.

"Well, I caught her when she tried to escape and knocked her out. The look on her face when she attacked me suggested that she thought I was another cat."

"You have my attention."

"I think she knows where my brother is," Chain concluded.

Gash grinned, his stained teeth poking out from beneath his lips. He knew Chain had always been the brighter of the two brothers. He followed the bigger cat to one of the red stone walls and noticed the bundle of calico fur. "I leave it to you to question her when she wakes up, but until then, you're carrying her. We need to find a more sheltered place to make camp."

"Yes, Gash."

* * *

"I don't know anything! Please let me go!"

Gash sighed. They were in the attic of some abandoned building full of cobwebs and junk, and safe from the hearing of any cat that might be searching for them outside. Chain had been using some of his most persuasive methods of extracting information but the young she-cat wouldn't snap.

Chain dug his claws deeper into the struggling cat's ribs. "I'll ask you again. Why did you call me 'Padlock'?"

Gash stepped forward. "It's no use," he growled in frustration. "She obviously doesn't care about what we do to her, but let's bring in cats she might know. Chain, go get a hostage. If she still won't speak, kill it and get another. I'll stay with this garbage."

Chain bowed his massive head and padded away.

Gash eyed the cowering female before him. Blood dripped from long scratches down her sides and face, and her hind leg was pulled from its socket. Her wide blue eyes darted around the room, flicking back to him every few seconds before returning to their desperate search for an escape.

"Relax," he meowed coldly. "Things can only get worse from here."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her body shivered violently and for a moment, he was worried she was going into shock. "I know where the criminal is."

Gash grinned. He knew the truth was coming, he could smell it.

"Padlock looks just like the cat you had with you, he is locked away in the king's palace."

"King Novel?" he asked.

The cat nodded. "You can do whatever you want to me, but I won't let you harm the cats I know around here."

"I'm back!" roared Chain, dragging a terrified tabby tom in his jaws.

Gash flicked his broken orange tail. "No need. We have what we came for. Time to go."

The big cat started. "But the prisoners-"

"Release them. They are free to go. They won't bother us."

"As you command, Gash."

* * *

He padded confidently beside his towering companion. They were heading east. Novel lived near the white cold mountains where he held his court. Some old forgotten barn was his palace.

Towering trees with red bark and squirrels were all they had seen for the past few days.

They stopped by a chirping creek as darkness covered them. The nights were cold and they took shelter beneath the roots of a particularly massive fallen tree. Chain had first shift to keep watch. Gash closed his eye. It was going to be another long day of traveling tomorrow, but he knew nothing could stop him.

It felt like it had been barely more than a minute before he was awakened by the sound of hissing and yowling. It took a moment for his eye to adjust to the darkness and he peered out to where Chain was supposed to be keeping watch.

Shadowy figures were dancing around the big brute, lashing at him with claws that seemed too long for their paws, and twisting away before he could grab one. The king's assassins had found them!

He was upon them in an instant. The wiry dark cats had very long sharpened claws coated with a yellowish substance. Gash remembered when he had had his own legion of venomous assassins, but those days were long ago. Now these creatures were his enemies.

He dodged a jab from a set of wicked talons and caught another set in his own claws. With a yank, he pulled the cat to him and sank his teeth deep into its neck. Or he would have if the lithe little rodent hadn't thrown its tail in the way. He felt bones crack beneath his teeth but the Nightpaw's fur was coated with a sticky smelly substance and, too late, he realized his mistake. He let go but his mouth was rapidly going numb and his eye watered up. He tried to focus his attention back to the fight, but his whole body felt heavy as a stone. He staggered sideways, fighting the dizziness, lost, and blacked out.

* * *

"Ouch!"

Gash opened his eye to find himself in a small metal cage. The light was dim and his surroundings were foreign.

"Ouch!" he recoiled again as he felt something sharp pinch him in the side. He squeezed his head around in the tiny space and saw the long wooden stick that had poked him through the bars.

"Wake up, filth, it is time for your trial."

He barely understood the grating voice that spoke to him. He felt as sturdy as a rotten log.

The front of his cage opened and he rolled out in a heap as it was tilted forward.

"Come."

He felt something nudge him along. He didn't resist. He half walked half was pushed through some corridors and through some doors, until he was released into a large round room. He could smell cats, and lots of them.

"The criminal has arrived, we may begin!"

Gash looked around wearily. The room was white and smooth with rows of landings circling around almost to the ceiling. On each landing were dozens of cats, all looking down at him. Placed here and there were heavily built cats with ragged ears and scarred muzzles. They were the guards.

"Gash! You have been brought here to answer for your crimes!" yowled a cream colored tom from a raised platform separate from the other landings. It was Novel.

He looked around frantically as it clicked what was happening. He had been caught and now he would most certainly be executed.

Two other cats were dragged on either side of him and he recognized Chain and Padlock. Both of them seemed to be as confused and sedated as he was.

"All cats in favor of the destruction of these three villains," announced Novel.

A chorus of hisses and a few growls of approval met the king's words. Gash looked around for some recognizable faces, and to his pleased astonishment, he saw some. Along the edges of the congregation, cats who had once been his servants and advisors stared down upon him. Most of the guards had also once fought for him. Would they fight for him now? They would fight for whoever was the strongest. Right now it looked like Novel was in charge.

Gash felt rage bubbling up inside of him. These cats had no right to drag him to trial and dismiss him like a naughty kitten. No cat told him what to do. No cat took his empire from him!

He shivered with fury and a couple of guards narrowed their eyes as he fidgeted. They were his guards, not Novel's! Beside him he felt Chain and Padlock tense. The effects of the sleeping drug was wearing off on them too.

"Then it has been decided!" roared Novel. "Guards, take them away. They deserve the most painful possible death!"

Gash grinned, feeling blood cloud his vision. He could barely speak but he managed to squeeze a few words out loud enough for every watching cat to hear.

_"Put some blood on the walls."_

The guards stopped, their eyes glazing over for a moment. Novel noticed this and shifted his paws uncomfortably. Gash's kill command was strong. No cat could ever forget.

"Guards, remove them, now!"

But it was done. His message whispered around the room like a disease, passing between the cats he had once commanded until it filled the whole room.

_Blood… _

_ King Gash…_

With a roar, Gash leapt past the disoriented guards and jumped into the crowd. Many of them had been part of the resistance, but a few of them were still loyal to him. Fighting broke out as cat turned on cat and fur flew into the air.

Padlock roared and charged the guards that had rushed into the room, flinging them against the walls and smashing their skulls to pulp.

Chain kicked the guards in the face as they tried to hold him down and scattered cats in the crowd on the other side of the room.

Gash had only one target in mind; the king. He glared at Novel's empty pedestal and then around at the surrounding cats, but to his frustration, the coward had leapt off his perch into battle and was lost in the crowd.

Gash wove his way between battling cats, lashing his claws at any cat that opposed him, but Novel had vanished. More cats were breaking their way into the crowd to defend their king, but his own cats were wildly driven by the taste of blood. He knew that as long as he lived, his followers would die before surrendering.

A cat plowed into him from the side, and he snarled as he rolled with the blow. It was the calico she cat he had spared before. "We should have killed you when we had the chance," she snarled, eyes burning.

He leapt at the calico before she could say another word, and sank his jaws into her neck. With a twist, he cracked her spine and flung her limp body onto the floor. "You probably should have," he whispered sweetly into her unmoving ear.

Panting, he looked around. His cats were heavily outnumbered, but they fought like a dozen cats each. He needed to find the leader of the rebellion fast before too much precious blood was lost.

More of Novel's guards flooded into the room, stepping over the heaps of still bodies, and falling upon Gash's already outnumbered followers.

"Chain! Padlock!" He caught his bruisers' attention and pointed at the flood of new enemies. With a nod, the two big gray toms turned as one and charged into the fray. Gash didn't need to watch to know they could handle it. Separate, they were each formidable. Combined, they were like a lion and tiger; nothing could stand in their way.

"My liege, I found him!"

Gash spun around and spotted the massive tabby figure of Chain above one of the entrances. He looked below and saw the cream colored fur of Novel as he tried to flee. With a blood curdling yowl, he charged, knocking allies and enemies alike out of his way and tasted the delicious tang of blood in his mouth.

Novel saw him and braced for impact, his fur fluffing out until he had doubled in size, but it was too late. Gash lost complete control of his body as red filled his vision.

Something wet and warm splattered on his face and he blinked the fury from his eye. Novel lay before him, blood oozing from a rip that ran across his skull all the way down to his tail

The reign of the Great and Bloody One had resumed.

**I hope you didn't find this too terrible. Leave a comment if you want like it. Just a wee little comment. It would be so small you wouldn't even notice it... **

_tiny comment  
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